“I’ve got a button forthat, too,” Parker said, riffling through her bag.
A small lull opened up in the conversation, and it was only after a beat that Mal realized it was because of Stella. She sat at the end of the table, suddenly very interested in the zine she was checking. Mal instantly recognized that look: the look of someone crawling out of their skin with discomfort.
They cleared their throat. “It’s also super okay to notdisclose,” they said—nottoStella but to the room. “It’s not mandatory, of course, forMixxedMediastaff.”
But Stella looked up at Mal, her face a strange mix of things Mal couldn’t untangle. For the space of a breath, they stared at each other, something unspoken but important passing between them. It reminded Mal of the looks they’d shared once, back when they had still been friends.
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a bad person,” Stella said finally, her eyes shifting around the room.
“Careful,” said James at the same time Mal said, “It’s okay; this is a safe space.”
“I…,” Stella started, and then stopped. She looked down at the table, sliding over the zine she was inspecting to start a new pile of approved copies. Then she said, like it was a confession, “I’m not queer.”
“Oh,” said Mal.
Stella looked up, eyes sharp, pleading. “Like, not in a way that—I mean, obviously there’s nothingwrongwith being—I’m an ally! But also just—I’m straight, I’m sorry!”
Parker was the first to snort a laugh, followed by a soft chuckle from Kodi, and a whispered “Bless” from James.
“Stella, you don’t have to be queer,” Mal said gently.
“Yeah, every group needs their token straight,” Emerson agreed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone come out as straight before,” Nylan said, “but obviously we accept you for who you are.”
“Even when that’s kind of a jerk sometimes,” Emerson said, and then added, when Mal stomped her toes under the table,“Which is not now, for the record! You’re being honest and I appreciate you!”
“I feel like I’m crashing a party or something,” Stella admitted. “I don’t want to take up space I shouldn’t, but I really love writing, and these zines look amazing, if I’m being honest.”
“It’s not specifically a queer-only space,” Mal said, and nodded their head toward the community rules posted on the wall. “We’re inclusive, Stella. It’s The Rules.”
“And you know Mal loves a rule,” Emerson said, winking at Mal across the table.
“Really?” Stella asked.
“Really,” Mal said.
“Thanks.” For the first time Mal could remember, Stella smiled at them. “Also—stupid straight-girl question, but—wow, that was hard. Is that what it’s like to come out?”
“No,” James said, and laughed loudly.
But at the same time, Nylan shrugged and said, “More or less.”
And Kodi said, “Yeah, but over and over again to everyone you meet.”
And Parker said, “I don’t know, but I have an ally button too.”
After the others had all weighed in, Mal said, “Thanks for sharing, Stella. Can we get back to work?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Stella, smiling a little.
And though they hadn’t planned for it, they stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening: working together, laughing and sharing stories and drinking freshcoffee when Sam brought more in around dinner time. They took breaks only to eat lunch, or to bandage paper cuts, or to have a Group Wiggle, once, at Emerson’s suggestion.
They worked into the night, until the first run ofMixxedMediawas ten neat stacks of ten zines at the center of the editors’ desk.
“We’ll send an e-mail later with a plan for tomorrow, for sales,” Mal said.
“And we’ll come up with it after everyone leaves?” Emerson asked under her breath.
